


Under sorrows and joys

by EphemeraCrux



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo Series - Richard A. Knaak
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bad Jokes, Dark Fantasy, Dirty Jokes, Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fun, Humor, Love, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Silly, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EphemeraCrux/pseuds/EphemeraCrux
Summary: Amends and purification has been done to the infamous world of Sanctuary, who now sees the light of better joyous days, along with it's protectors and savoius in one place. Still the eveil and misery will always lurk free, waiting for a new oportunity to unleash damnation.A silly stupid adventure combined with slice of life, good to forget maximum 10 minutes after you read it! If you are bored and have nothing to do in your life, hop in and stretch your mindwires for a little!This work is just a stupid collection of random events and things in wich I can chisel my writing style and exercise new ones. (Do not worry I will leave notes explaining new things.)
Relationships: Helgrotha/Rathma (Diablo series)
Kudos: 1





	1. Between lust and love(Valentines special)

All the life in the room was asleep, only the soft breaths and the chill breeze that found it's way into the room, created an atmosphere of delightfull peace. Rathma woke up overdone by wierd dreams of lifeless angels and devouring demons who sought for his soul. He gasped shivering. But as moments passed away, buried by the time, the memory of the dream was fading away, as he became more concious.

Under the mild cold sheets, his lover twitched around murmuring, searching slowly for him in her slep.

Sometimes the gestures could speak more than words, sometimes they were the best action that could turn the tide of fate up right. He thaught this more often than usual this times, he realized that even some small things, made as they should be made, are the seeds of peace and fullfillment.  
Slowly he moved closer to her and remained silent, waiting for her to find him. In this moment, his lips were to dry to speak the same words of love and reassurence she craved to hear from him. His neck felt to stiff to breathe in her ear as a silent sign of his presence. He just sat motionless in the dark, analizing his life and the decisions that got him here.

His body shivered under her sloppy grip on his upper arm, pasting herself tight on him and gasping in her sleep, she was like a firefly or a spark.  
This night woke a realization in him. Too caught in this lusty wasteland, he felt that the souless urges were never going to end. He felt his heart ache at the new realization of his demonic heritage.  
This unknow side of him was a dreadfull ruin that scratched his bare skin. A side that came to remind Rathma that he was lost in a sea of blood, the redemption, the sorrow, the lust always broke through his being feeding the animal inside.  
The shouts of his inner inkubus fell silent under the soft murmurs, where she was declaring her love to him before they went to sleep. It felt like a last breath, like an oath of devotion.  
Even if this was an illussion of the mind who craved for an affection, as they were the lonely children of parents of stone and gold.  
But that innocent moments could shatter the tormented bloodlust what burned inside their veins, it was a sweet illusion. It felt like the soft brezee of spring, a soft tranquility that molded them into beings of love and caress.

He knew their love always ended in the morning, but they were too stuborn to accept this bitter reality. In the desperate attempt to keep the reveric love alive, they melted in the sin, giving free hand to their obscene wishes, that were the only thing that took them away from this world of greed and hunger. Somehow they both knew it all was meant to end after they would copulate.

Still, he found himself shivering under her passionate kisses.  
It was an energetic freezing, when their desire and their love became the same, a waltz of their own. This state of being was a sorrowfull pleasure. Complicate to comprehend, easy to live, hard to forget.

Rathma felt her in every detail of his new thaughts, his heart was pounding when she wasn't around.  
Even though he knew he would lose her eventually, in the midsts of life, he attatched to her flowery smell, the contour of her body, the words she used to describe her feelings, the way she unveiled her thaughts in front of him, the fragility of her body, the labirinth of her mind.  
It was all enchanting, when he could find some new side of her disociated in the maze between logic and soul. The descovery was a treasure he kept for himself, not daring to let her know that he was closer to her in an intense spiritual way.

Rathma sat there in the silence, separating the love from lust and hoping he found the one.  
He closed his eyes as a stream of anguish washed his soul, he felt calm under the silence of the night.  
Where the winds, birds, her breaths and ocasional murmurs were a allurig trace for his stream of thaughts.

He wished to open his mouth to say something nice or loving but he could not, the words were blocked in his neck. The intensity of the emotion weighed on his body as the heart beats increased, words were too meaningless in this middle of the night.

Rathma thaught so and turned his head to see her. She was sleeping like a child, a pink blush covering her cheeks, her mouth open and her ivory bare skin cold under the soft july breeze.  
This love they had was a wierd feeling for him, an experience where he had no clue how to act or how to speak.

He watched her peacefull face and he knew they would not be the same in years. He knew the love would turn to a prison where their souls would melt untill they became a single being.  
He knew this prison of desire would consume them as it did to Lilith and Inarius, from two boundles of love they became crazed by jealousy and hate. He was slain by this heavy thaught, Rathma avoided at every cause to fall back in the same vertigo that haunged his early years.  
But it could be possible, if he made a wrong step all steps would be wrong . He sighed pushing this dark view aside, concentrating on more meaningful events.

He lyed on his naked back with her sleeping now on his chest, all the memories that pierced his mind were serene pieces of adoration, small moments he forced himself to see as the size of mountains, that put a small smile on his face. He started to wonder if he could find her in another woman, but it never happened.  
He never found the same woman twice. They all were haunting and diverse, like flowers.

He wasn't a soulless lover like his mother, or a tiranic keeper like his father, he was posessing traits from both of them, but he wasn't like them. He reassured himself while he looked how her hair was scattered in a messy pile over his body and the pillow. Slowly he caressed her hair in a gentle way, carefull to not disturb her sleep.

This dreamless thaughts were a never ending thread that drove him into a deep introspection where he found in himself feelings he had no clue about. Relaxing his body, Rathma put her arm around his lover, the woman just hugged him tighter.

This gave him a heartbreaking pain.

Love was a mold of soul, matter, spirit, desire, lust, companionship. And all this traits balanced perfectly could give him a life long ally, or a great fucking, or a devouring enemy. He had to be carefull to not trip on the illusion of prefect love.  
This understanding calmed himself somehow.

Rathma was aware this might end, but he had to do what he could to keep their love real, for now. If they were not meant to least, the memories would paint her beautiful or wild, only time would decide anything.

As the definion of time came to cursh all he knew, he left his mind fall into a trace. Realizing he was worrying in vein, because he was no ready to know how his life would look. He realized he had nothing to worry about because the fate would decide how they would turn.  
All he knew was that love was a leaf caught in a soft brezee, spiralling without direction and controll.

" Are you sleeping?" His lover murmured sighing. She rised her head to see his eyes closed, he was tired she thaught and covered them more with the soft cover.

Rathma sat there enjoying the soft peace of an introsective meditation, there were no words to be told in this night.  
Helgrotha made herself more confortable in his arms, holding her hands around him, as if she was searching to show her affection through a nice gesture.

She wanted fo tell him about her dream, but there was time in the next day.


	2. Doorknob

Auriel gazed entraced at the small flower garden of the nephalem, the ocean of green and bright colors swung along with the tides of thr mild winds of sumer. Spreading her wings around, she started floathing over the plants, as she thaught that stepping was a great sin against those solemn fragile beings of silence and beauty.

"Sister Auriel be carefull, there are bees inside the flowers!" Tyrael told in a rush as he watched the archangel get her face closer than it should be to the moon flower.

"Bees?" Auriel replied confused, looking towards her who rested in the shadow of a strong towering cherry tree leaned on his side.

"They are small insects, who gather polen from flower to make honey. They can pinch you and it will hurt for a long amount of time. One pinched me one time. It was terrible both the pain and the realization that this being died defending itself." Tyrael explained slowly, placeing the papers he was reading on a side, but he remained stoned signaling to the angel to do the same. "Do not move, she will leave." Tyrael added looking straight at the small bee who was circling around the archangel of hope. Poor Auriel, she was so confused and scared she did not dared to breathe of move her wings around. All she did was to keep track on that annoying sound and wait for the small creature to leave at once. "This are unusual flowers." The angel said suspicious as she glanced for one more time to the white petals that bloomed in the dark light of dusk. "They bloom at night time." She added as she smelled a moon flower, the soft petals closed as the bright light of her warm wings came to them as a sign that the night was over. Leaned over the flowers she got to observe the small insects and living beings who existed at the top of the soil, small black dots with thin thin legs moved around living their life. Curious she thaught of asking Tyrael, but still he was new to this world and very clueless about the whell of existence as a whole.

"This world is a miracle!" Auriel declared wisely as she rised her head from the petals of the enchanting flowers. The big words flyed away in the air, being caried away with the same passion they were spoken out loud, falling in the lap of Inarius who was touched by the appreciation of his sister. As he tryed to speak, to impart his wisedom and knowledge of his creation his words stuck in his being. They sat motionless, like a knot on a thread, alone, never to be let outside.

"Here on Sanctuary, everything is connected to form a whole." Came Rathma's unexpexted answer passing as a knife to the scratched ears of Inarius who just drowned in his seat folding his arms around his body. Grumpy he sought to say something that would obliterate the small insegnifiant words of his son but the words just became a bigger knot. Grumpy, the angel fixed his eyes on the rags that formed gathering of clouds wondering through the shades of grey and the warm palette of the silent sunset muted by the sound of the restless world who had no time or courage to lift it's head above and watch, just watch, the tragic death of the blessed luminary. The shades of crescent orange and rosy shy pink were bathed in the violent lake of crimson red that marked the end of another day. Such beautiful scenery, he was glad he watched everything and let his scratching boundles of envy melt away in the present who became a recent past.

"JUST WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The sharp scream of his son woke him too premature from this majestic reveria his had, when the beautiful smoke pink as well as red subdued from his vision he was scared by a sharp bone spear that cut the air in front of him.

"Son, I have raised you elegantly. How can you do such a thing!?"

"Nothing...I was just...just admireing this flowers and vegetables so I got closer to them." The scoundrel excused himself in a stammer before siting limp waiting for the next chance to escape. In his voice blended the ipocrisy of his usual way of excusing himself, a fraight pitch and a sense of disarrangement. He hold his hands on his back, folded togheter, but Rathma knew what he was doing all along.

"Of course!" The nephalem snored full of sarcasm as he got closer and closer to the fright Lyndon, a grim smile curved his lips as he clutched his hands togheter a strong energy emanating from his being to the one of Lyndon, who sought for a miraculous escape.

"I...I swear." This broke from his lips unexpected. "I was doing nothing, I would never steal... never."

"Linarian LEAVE HIM ALONE." Inarius screamed just to show a bit of presence but he didn't really cared that much.

"Why is you pouch full? What are you doing with my flowers? "

"Please, what use have flowers other than to delight ladies!? Have you seen Auriel right there?" Lyndon's voice softened a small laught playing along the entangled words. But as the nephalem wasn't fooled by the old, look there!, trick he sighed scared clearing his soaked wet forehead with his dirty sleeve.

"Oh, so it's a woman you want to impress." Rathma said thaughtfull, his features softening in a melancholic figure. "Then ehy are you that stupid?" He added quick, takeing anyone by surprise. He still didn't wanted to give up this tomatoes and roses to that thief who tricked naive women. "Why don't you become more...close to them?" Rathma told it all in a soft murmur, that was lost inside the semidarkness of the late evening. He then dropped his daggar remaining still in the front of Lyndon who was more confused than ever. After moments who seemed like voluptuous centuries he gave in and left the promising advice of the sun of Temptation enlighten him. "Flowers and other things are nice treats, but woman value above all a fiery bound. And also..." Rathma closed a finger to his lips stretching all at once, his head towards the frozen scoundrel who was all ears. "A gift with an intention. " The nephalem lowered his tone as he spoke of it, makeing this some of his treasured secrets. "Any idiot can give some flowers or jewelery. Find something special that can speak your mind to her, without being too much or too less." Lyndon's face lit with a smile as the wine he had earlier became to boil in his veins what seemed to tight at this time. He took in those words, chewing on their meaning before patting Rathma on the shoulder takeing his leave. He then tossed the flowers throwing them behind a gigantic solitary rock, the burden was over because he knew the perfect gift with intention.

After the happy ending of such embarasing act, Rathma just took his leave heading to the back yard to attend on his unusual guests.

"The nephalem is a blessing!" He heard Tyrael say to Inarius, because Auriel was still with her head in the flowers.

"I agree with you Tyrael. It was them who woke us from our deadly slumber of cold numbness." Rathma explained as he took a seat in front of Tyrael. The dim darkness showed no trace of light as only the wings of both Inarius and Auriel provided them with a holy ray of clarity. They sat outside, chatting about small things plus the events of this new eons, a nice talk, in wich Inarius and his son had time to find some common ground that bounded them togheter slowly but surelly. Then, out of the blue, Tyrael's belly started to groad loudly takeing anyone by surprise.

"This damned... How do you humans live with the constant need to do things that take your time?" He asked Rathma after looking up at the sky, sighing angry with how the human body kept him from enjoying life.

"Tyrael, this...things... are our responsability. This is self care and health, elements that vitalize ourselfs for the long run of life. Come in to eat."

Anyone followed Rathma inside, to eat and hopefully continue the nice talk they had outside. After entering in the house, they all found themselfs in a tall room that hold place for dineing room and living room. Auriel saw on the corners of the room little wooden tables with candles and other elements on them, she could not see well but she smelled dry herbs in the dim air of the room, barelly lit by the pale yellow light that played with the shadows. Books, many books hold a significant place in this house, papers spread on the dineing table were very carefull taken by Rathma who moved them inside a gigantic book covered in leather. His steps light on the puffy carpet made almost no sound when he came in with a tray full of burning candles wich found their way in the middle of the table.

Gesturing them to take a seat on the table he rushed in another room in search for something. But the solemn silence was broken by the groaning of Tyrael's belly and the sound of burning candles from wich grey smoke rised, envisioning pale distorted figures of mythical spirits long buried by dirt and time.

After some moments of solitude, Rathma came in back with a woman and his mother following them. Her milky look fell over her dearest relative, Helgrotha who hold a burning spark of fire in her right palm as a guidelight. Snoring she took a seat in the right of Auriel placeing her palms on the table without makeing a sound.

Laughing broke the embarassing silence in wich they all lived, as it was an emptiness in their throats more or less. But Lilith was acting as she was in her own house, she took some candles, placed them in front of her for a better view, then her head moved around, following the source of the laughing and joy that took place in the kitchen.

No talking subject was found in such agonizeing silence, where only the midst of ghostly smoke told stories.

"That is absolutelly ridiculous, I tell you." Came closer Rathma's voice followed by a warm smell that put Tyrael in a slumber of relaxation.

"I know." Helgrotha responded laughing after that. After the soup bowls sat in front of each individual, the hosts took their places at the head of the table. Their milky white faces roasted by the pale orange light. Tyrael observed that both of them united their hands, probably in a preyer so he followed, thanking for his peacefull existence.

"Rathma fuck you and fuck your advices!" Lyndon told sharp as he swung the door open. Anyone looked in shock, waiting for this to turn around into something more interesting.

"What happened?" Rathma asked sharp, this perturbation offending him to the core.

"I did what you told, I searched for something to express my intention and she punched my in the face." Lyndon admited bitter, throwing a doorknob on the table. At the sight and hearing of this, Lilith broke laughing histerically as she kept imagining different situation for such turn. Tears fell down her rosy cheecks, rolling down until they crushed over her chest.  
" You gave her a doorknob!?" Rathma sighed frowning at the doorknob that rested between his bowl and the small saltshaker.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it sucks. BUT... I am training myself in writing dialogue and soft hearted stuff.
> 
> And if you are waiting for the next chapter of Belicose Carnifex I tell you, it is close, but I need to find the perfect fitting ending.  
> It is called. "Dead wishes upon the Cerbers of the Triune - Bonefires for Cydea's whore!"

Tyrael sat numb in front of the wooden door that separated him from his answer. He gasped rethinking his decision, passing any note, idea, thaught through the filther of his mind searching for a positive outcome. The grins and silence his friends gave him when asked this question had him a bit nervous. But the words were stuck somewhere in his head, a blank fog of cold ice stretching before his vision. Why he felt so silly and slightly embarassed, he had no clue? He felt his courage crashing over a stone field, he levitated high over a cloud of thin white, from wich he felt he would fall at any given moment.

Takeing his pride in his teeth he knocked at the door, his fist pressing mild over the shiny clean door. He remained impressed with the fact that his image was barelly visible on the brown surface. He paused to take a brief study over his mortal features, golden eyes shone bright from deep within their cave, heavy eyeleds fell with a rush over one another, the thick dark eyebrows stretched along the creased forehead wich reminded him of the dunes from the desert of Caldeum. Too busy to decipher himself the archangel payed no mind at his surroundings, the spellbound of his reflexion alluring him to a meditative slumber.

"WHO IS IT THERE!?"

The sharp tone made him jump out of his lapel, embarassed by this dezastruous outcome the archangel coughed to make hinself noticed then closed his face to the door like he wanted to grasp the spirit of the one who was on the other side, so he could understand if to run or keep pursuing for his answer. But still, he felt silly for doing that.

"It is me Tyrael!" The angel answered mild stretching his back as he came to understand, from the talks with Li-Ming, that the posture is a very important thing in the human interactions and it could impact a conversation.

After he heard the greeting, the angel's heart fell into the pit of his stomach the realization of no returning catching him tight like a cat does with a mouse.  
As he placed foot into the room, the warmth of the fire embraced him with all it's love caressing his frozen bones with it's mild neverending kiss.

The first thing he lied eyes on was Rathma who sat on a solid chair watching him with a blank washed face. A multitude of papers were spread like the leafs over the frozen ground in an autumn evening. Placing his wide open palms over the desk, the nephalem strwtching his long neck in front to gather a better view of the angel who looked like he fell from the top of the moon. "I do not want to disturb you..." Tyrael begin as he eyed the unstained papers spread before the eyes of the nephalem. He saw curling crimson veins stretched along the eyes of the oldest man on Sanctuary. His fingers taped on one another as his shoulders closed covering his posture. Rathma nodded at him, his pale face staying the same like a porcelain that was reflecting the light over it's fine features.

"I would like to know how the humans are born... and the other humans told me to ask you, as...as you know the most of it..."Heavy with the pressure of mistake, Tyrael's tongue stumbled after each word creating a more wierd situation than it actually was.

"Have a sit!" With a warm tone, Ratham gestured by stretching an arm towards a chair that directly faced him. With small steps Tyrael aproached the chair and took the seat fast not knowing how to make eyecontact with his nephiw during this setteling process, as he called this kind of situations. "Do you want to have children?" The nephalem asked bluntly, causing Tyrael's shoulders to startle mild, like the hop of a bunny over a fallen tree, he blushed leaning his head on a side as it was caught in a heavy storm of thaughts barrated only by illusiory sensations if guilt and a wierd pit in his stomach.

Rathma nooded touching his chin with two fingers still looking at the angel.

"Well, I...I do not know what to say. I do but I am not sure at the same time." Tyrael was sincere. He explained this softly despite the red hot that ablazed his checks. Playing with his fengers frenetically to avoid an eye contact that could bring a wave of awkward embarassment to him, he listened at the mild tone of Rathma who for a moment only hummed something he could not understand.

"First of all, I feel I need to exaplain to you what a human child is." Rathma continued, despite the frown of the angel. "A child is the product of sex between a woman and a man. A child is the biggest responsability one would have in their life. A human child is born helpless. They can't feed themselfs, clean themselfs, warm their bodies, thus they need constant care and attention. If left on it's own the baby would die within hours." Tyrael's face dropped at the understanding of such frailty, he leaned more, listening entraced.

"Such frailty, how can they survive if they are marked by death?"

"With the care of their parents. Surelly they develop into adults, but that takes a long time." The way Rathma spoke was still a new thing to Tyrael, as anyone he knew spoke loud and had a rush of excitement and energy in their voice that could give him a small spark of their soul, a light to cling on to let himself guided through the ways of this existence of complexity. The bland tone he used had Tyrael think, at times, that his soul withered out of him and there was just an autumn wisk that guided him through the wheel of existence. The angel had a hard time geting used to Rathma, as he never saw such essence that stagnated low on a symwtrical level

"So, the humans have more stages of existence?"  
"Yes."

"And all of them leed to death." Tyrael mused at this intrinsec thaught leaving the converstaion in the air for a little bit. Rathma just nooded firm, solemnity fell over his eyes, hinting a harsh melancholy in shades of cloud grey, ice shards, crimson tears and deep resentment. But the nephalem swollowed swift this splinters of emotions sheltering them with his vast logic of mind.

"Why are humans blushing when anyone mantions how are they born? Isn't it a shamefull thing, is it? "

"Well, half yes half no." Rathma unfolded his arms placeing them back on the surface of the desk. "We procreate through sex...we mate. " The nephalem was quite blunt in his talking, always sparing of words, a behaviour that made any disscution with him very complex and hard, akin to a mind game. "And this...ritual..." Rathma thaught carefull his words as he wanted no more further explanations or pestering. "no. Experience makes things wierd for us to explain. Because when we say about the birthing of one, our thaught fly at this mating process wich is not easy to explain."

"What is it mating ritual?" Tyrael's eyes grew bigger as he saw the forehead of the nephalem frown as a sign of irritation or agitation.

"I won't spoil anything to you. But do not worry, your body will guide you through all when the time comes." Rathma closed this subject with a sharp note, being quite proud of himself.

Tyrael understood very clear that his question crossed some boundaries and just placed his palms on him knees thinking of a new question to ask as this became to spirall into circles forming no sense on it's own.

"Humanity is so intriguing" He said while he placed all the dots and bits togheter in an attempt to understand. As the dust became to settle over the simple words of Rathma, Tyrael could see the intriguing beauty from the mural what was exposed to him with such nonchalance. Human life was so precious, because it was singular. A sun amongst clouds. A delicate, yet powerful force who could very easelly turn the tide of the Universe in different roads, never taken before, he remembered he read somewhere about humans who changed the world, but the he could never grasp this concept of change and existence and placed it ignorant under the sign of the natural force. Later he saw how decisions impact the world, after Adria's betray.


End file.
